


do you ever shut up?

by ylang



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22203334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylang/pseuds/ylang
Summary: Lindsey is a star athlete, genius at math, and regretful tutor. Emily is just a dumb jock. Becky Sauerbrunn is the mastermind behind all of it.
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 32
Kudos: 157





	do you ever shut up?

**Author's Note:**

> ngl this is just 13k of tropey romcom rip off! enjoy!

Lindsey’s junior year of high school is going well. She doesn’t know why everyone tells her that it’s supposed to be the hardest year of high school, because she’s doing fine. Great, even.

She's doing great on her soccer team and is the captain of the math team, has a scholarship lined up for her at Stanford, ditched her sorry boyfriend who cheated on her, kept some old friends and met new ones. And it’s only November. The year is going to be good, and she can feel it in her bones. The hallways feel cleaner, the air crisper, and the sunlight shining through the windows in her last period calculus class feels brighter.

She’s almost sad when the bell rings as she’s just about to be done with the last problem.

(Almost. She likes math, but she’s not that much of a nerd, despite what Rose and Mal may say.)

She packs up quietly and quickly. None of her other friends are in her class, but Lindsey’s fine with that. She can just focus, sailing through until it’s time to either go home or to practice. She doesn’t participate much either, only when everyone else is really stumped and she has the answer. But she knows her teacher, Ms. Sauerbrunn, doesn’t mind.

She smiles at her brightly as she leaves the classroom, ready to go to practice after sitting around all day, until Ms. Sauerbrunn motions for her to come to her desk. Lindsey, despite herself, feels her palms start to sweat.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Yes,” her teacher deadpans, not even looking up from the desk.

And just when Lindsey thinks she’s about to have a heart attack, Ms. Sauerbrunn looks up and smiles, saying “No, I’m just kidding, of course not. I need a favor.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I need you to tutor someone.”

Lindsey quickly responds, “I don’t know, Ms. Sauerbrunn, I would love to, but-”

“You have soccer, you’re busy, I get it. How about this: I’ll offer you extra credit. Not like you need it, but it always helps.”

“I-”

“What about community service hours? Look, I’m kinda desperate here. I really believe you could help this student. I’m not forcing you, but it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Who is it?” Lindsey asks tentatively. She doesn’t know anyone who would need help.

“Emily Sonnett. She’s a junior, like you. Different class, though, third period.”

“I don’t know her,” Lindsey says, almost dumbly. She’s trying to rack her brain for any Emily’s that she knows, but comes up blank. To be fair, she doesn’t keep track of a lot of people.

“It’s okay, you’ll get to know each other. She’s flexible to your schedule.”

“I-”

Ms. Sauerbrunn interrupts her again, “Think of it as a challenge.”

And she’s looking at Lindsey with a little smirk, and even though Lindsey knows that she’s playing her, she falls for it anyways. She’s not a coward. And she could use a little community service.

“Okay. Sure, why not,” she says.

“Good,” her teacher smiles brightly. “Thank you so much. I’ll email you later, figure out when you guys can meet.”

Lindsey just nods and says goodbye as she leaves the classroom, wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

Later that afternoon, the soccer team is training in the weight room, getting out of the cold rain. As Lindsey runs on the treadmill, she can’t help but let her mind wander to just why she said yes to Ms. Sauerbrunn. She doesn’t need any more work, her life is as busy as it is. There are probably tons of other people nicer than her who could probably help whoever this Emily is. Christen, for example. Christen would love to do that type of thing.

She doesn’t even know this girl.

She turns to Mal, next to her on another treadmill, “Do you guys know an Emily?”

Mal turns to her in surprise, and says through breaths, “Dude, you’ll have to be more specific than that. There’s Van Egmond, Menges, Ogle, Fox-”

Rose on the treadmill on the other side of Lindsey interjects, “Emily? Isn’t that literally our goalkeepers girlfriend?”

Mal looks around Lindsey to Rose, “Oh yeah! Her too! Alyssa’s girlfriend, right?”

“No, isn’t she AD’s?”

“No,” Mal says, then pauses to think. “Oh shit, you’re right! I hope I didn’t say anything dumb, I could’ve sworn it was-“

“Guys,” Lindsey interrupts annoyedly. “Emily Sonnett. Her name is Emily Sonnett.”

Rose looks at her curiously, “Sonnett? Why’d you wanna know about Emily Sonnett?”

“I’m tutoring her for calc. Sauerbrunn practically forced me. Well, I kinda caved. But it’s the same thing, she can be so scary,” Lindsey says.

She hears giggles from either side and groans exasperatedly, “Why are you guys laughing so much?”

Mal laughs, “Nothing. Have fun!”

Lindsey turns desperately to Rose, but she has her headphones in, mouthing, “Sorry, I can’t hear you!”, and Mal snorts at that, headphones in as well.

Maybe for Lindsey’s junior year, she can work on getting better friends.

\---

Lindsey’s been waiting in the library for ten minutes so far.

Time is precious, and she likes having nothing to do once she gets home, so she’s diligently started on her homework for the night. Apparently, time isn’t as precious to Emily. Lindsey hates people who aren’t on time to things. It’s irresponsible. It’s not a good first impression.

Lindsey’s getting tired of looking up every ten seconds to see if someone new has walked in.

She’s just about to get up and peek outside the door, when she hears a large bang and sees what she assumes to be Emily, rushing in and panting just as she’s exactly fifteen minutes late.

Emily Sonnett is apparently a girl in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, her blonde hair in the messiest bun Lindsey has ever seen under a baseball cap. Lindsey thinks that she looks vaguely familiar, but it might be her mind playing tricks on her. Lindsey mostly thinks that she’s late.

Emily puts her camouflage backpack down onto the floor and her jacket on the back of her chair with a big flourish, as she says, “Hi, sorry I’m late! I’m Emily. But call me Sonnett, no one ever calls me Emily.” Her voice is raspy, and without the slightest hint of apology in it. It’s almost irreverent.

“I’m Lindsey,” she says, putting away her homework, studying the other girl closely as she sits and leans back in her chair, slumping.

“Yeah, I know,” Emily, or rather, Sonnett, says nonchalantly. “So, can this super math genius help me not fail calc?”

“Hopefully,” Lindsey deadpans.

But Emily barrels onwards, “Good, because I barely passed pre-calc last year. I don’t know how they expected me to do good this year if I literally suck at the baby version of this.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Man, my parents got so pissed at me.”

“Sorry about that,” Lindsey says, trying to come off as sympathetic, getting tired of the routine now that they only have about forty minutes left to work. “Anyways, can you take out the last test we took?”

“Oh god, I don’t even want to look at it. It’s like, all red. Let me find it, this might take a while because I put it in the back of one of my random folders just so I wouldn’t see it.”

Lindsey can hear Emily’s voice, slightly muffled but still just as loud, as she’s leaning under the table, searching through her backpack, “I bet your tests are all blank. Does Sauerbrunn put like, stickers on them? I asked her for some, because I swear I saw one on Chris’ test, but she told me to shut up.”

“I don’t think there was a sticker on mine.”

“I think Sauerbrunn just told you to say that to me,” she says, then comes up triumphantly with a packet in her hands. “Also, here’s my test.” She places it on the table in between them, and Lindsey can barely see the questions through the sea of red marks.

She can’t help but whisper, “Oh my god.”

Emily chuckles, “Yeah. Sorry Sauerbrunn put you up to this, she must hate your guts or something.”

“Okay, so let’s just start with things you got wrong.”

“The first problem, then.” Emily then grabs the test to study it closely, bringing it up to her face, trying to make out her work through the sea of corrections and erased lines. Lindsey just sits there awkwardly, waiting for her to return it so she can see it too. She can see Emily’s face crinkle in confusion from behind the paper.

“So, Emily-”

“Sonnett. Call me Sonnett. Even Sauerbrunn calls me that.”

“Okay,_ Sonnett_, why did you get this one wrong?”

Finally, Emily puts it down and says, “Okay, for this one, I was really stuck between the one I circled and the right one. So that has to count for something, right?”

“Why’d you choose the wrong one then?” Lindsey snarks. It comes out a little harsher than she would like.

“I circled it last minute because I wasn’t sure. I was legit thinking about it for the whole test,” Emily insists. Lindsey doesn’t know why she needs to repeat that, it’s not like she doesn’t believe her. Or hear her.

“So-“

Emily continues, seemingly not even noticing Lindsey, “And then I came back to it and I thought I was so smart for choosing the right answer but I guess I got it wrong-“

With every word that comes out of Emily’s mouth, Lindsey just grows more and more annoyed, feeling the grip of irritability growing stronger on her until she’s barely holding herself back from rolling her eyes.

Emily continues, “But like, I think I get it. Mostly. So can we just move on to the next one because I honestly didn’t know we even learned that-“

Maybe Lindsey’s too focused on keeping her face neutral, because she hears herself say, “God, do you ever shut up?”

It slips out of Lindsey’s mouth before she can catch it, and almost like a delayed reaction, she puts her hand to her mouth, as if that’s going to change it.

Sauerbrunn’s going to kill her.

More words spill out of her mouth, this time apologetic. She’s looking down at that stupid test, and she feels almost as bad as that tests looks. She starts rambling, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me-“

“Nah, you’re good,” Emily interrupts her yet again, but for the first time, Lindsey doesn’t mind. When Lindsey looks up, she sees Emily smiling brightly at her, almost beaming, resting her slightly tilted head in her hand. It’s probably the first time they’ve held eye contact for more than 3 seconds.

Lindsey’s so confused and relieved and just happy that her mouth is gaping open, speechless. This time, Emily waits for her to talk. Only for a moment, but she still waits.

Then Emily takes the test back, looking down and snarks, “Was kinda waiting for you to say that.” And Lindsey can’t help but laugh, loud and clear until the librarian has to come over to quiet her. She still lets out giggles periodically, though, and then both she and Emily have to hold themselves from bursting out for the next half hour of tutoring.

The next practice, while they’re doing drills, Mal asks her slyly, “So, how was Sonnett?”

Lindsey smiles, while passing the ball smoothly, “She’s an annoying little shit.”

—

Tutoring has been going considerably better since that first meeting.

Lindsey has discovered that Emily is almost hopelessly bad at math. Something happened when she was born that caused her to be completely unable to handle numbers, despite how much Lindsey tries. _Almost_ hopeless, though, and she’s been improving, slowly but surely.

That skill, or lack thereof, with numbers probably affects her ability to ever be on time, actually. She’s still late every time. Though, that’s been improving, too.

However, that improvement doesn’t mean that Lindsey can’t poke fun at her stupid mistakes. It makes the meetings interesting, and Lindsey is, admittedly, glad that she got such a character as Emily. It’s never boring with her.

(They’ve almost gotten kicked out of the library two times. The next time they get kicked out for real, and frankly, Lindsey can’t wait. It feels weird to say.)

Sometimes, she’s worried that it goes too far, crossing the line between teacher and student, even though they’re the same age. But then Emily comes back with her own little jab at Lindsey, smiling throughout it all so it never really hits like it’s intended to. Or maybe that’s how it’s intended to be. Lindsey’s learning as well.

It’s her fifth meeting with Emily, and she bounds into the library late by just four minutes, with a bright “Sup, Lindsey!”

Less energetically, Lindsey says, “Hi Sonnett.”

Emily sits down in a huff, as she always does, dramatic as ever, and says, “Okay, I need help. Please say that you can help me with this bullshit that Sauerbrunn assigned.”

“I actually can’t help you. I don’t get it myself, I think it’s too hard for me,” Lindsey says dryly as she pulls it out.

“What? Are you serious-“

She smiles, “It’s a joke, Sonnett.”

Emily blushes slightly, covering it up by retorting, “Didn’t know super genius Lindsey Horan could make those. Didn’t know super genius Horan could be funny.”

Lindsey rolls her eyes, “You’re not the only one.” Then Emily smiles, a boyish grin, and by forcing the homework into Lindsey’s hands, they get started.

Later, as Emily is quietly working on a problem and Lindsey is scrolling on her phone momentarily, Emily props her head in her hands and asks, smirking, “So, you like my jokes?”

Lindsey doesn’t even look up from her phone, “I never said that. Just said I could make them too. And better.”

“Take that back! I’m going to rat you out to Sauerbrunn. Maybe even Ellis.”

“Go ahead, we all know that Sauerbrunn hates you.”

“First of all, she loves me. Second of all, bold of you to assume that she wouldn’t do anything to shut me up.”

“That makes two people who would do anything to shut you up.”

Emily doesn’t respond, she just laughs. The librarian glares at her, shushing her loudly, and she grins apologetically, mouthing ‘sorry’. Lindsey puts down her phone and looks at what she’s got so far in her notebook, purposefully ducking her head down to hide a smile.

—-

By the seventh meeting, Emily is just a minute late, and she greets Lindsey with, “Hey Horanimal.”

Lindsey tries to hold back a surprised laugh as she tries to hide a smile, “That’s new. And bad. Please never call me that again.”

By the eighth meeting, and maybe the hundredth time Emily has called Lindsey ‘Horanimal’, Lindsey groans exasperatedly, “You need a bad nickname too. Can’t be just me.”

Emily, intrigued, looks up from her work and says, almost demurely, “Okay. Make one then.”

It makes Lindsey a little nervous, how calm Emily looks, how different from the rambunctious Emily that had almost gotten them thrown out of the library she is. Her eyebrows are raised, almost in surprise, almost challenging Lindsey, her smile slightly softer.

Lindsey panics, thinking out loud, “Uh, Sonnett. Nett. Son. Sonny.”

Emily’s smile grows wider, “You can be more creative than that.”

Lindsey rolls her eyes, mimicking Emily softly under her breath. As she thinks for a while, mouthing ideas to herself in concentration, they lapse back into comfortable silence. Lindsey watches Emily work, determined to find something that would make Emily laugh too. Emily’s hair is down today, and she pushes it out of her face and behind her ear as she works, tongue sticking out a bit.

“Dasani,” Lindsey says, out of the blue.

Emily looks up, and Lindsey can’t help but notice that her hair is falling everywhere in front of her face.

“That’s horrible,” she deadpans.

But then she bursts out into laughter, after struggling to hold it behind closed lips, and Lindsey smiles in relief.

“I love it.”

—-

By the tenth meeting, Lindsey is surprised and a little scared at how quickly they’re becoming friends. Real friends, not friends that you say are friends because you know them. People who know things about each other.

Lindsey, for some reason, is compelled to tell Emily about her life, her brother, her favorite soccer players, other classes. Emily, in return, will mention things offhandedly about herself, small details, like the specific way she likes to cook eggs, or her thoughts on the right way to put on shoes, or that she hates the smell of gasoline.

It hits Lindsey when she sees a drawing while flipping through Emily’s notebook, checking her work. She lands on a picture of a llama in the back. It’s good. It’s unexpectedly good.

Lindsey tells her so, “Hey, this drawing is really good.”

Emily looks up, “Huh?” When she sees what Lindsey’s looking at, she begins to blush, embarrassed. Lindsey doesn’t think that she’s ever seen Emily embarrassed before. Lindsey could tease her all she wants and Emily would laugh it off, but somehow this compliment gets her flustered. Lindsey files that information for later.

Emily stammers, quickly taking the notebook from Lindsey, “Oh, it’s nothing. I drew it as a joke, I was in bio, talking with the girl that sits next to me, Bailey, and we were-“

“Joke or not, it’s insanely detailed. You’re really talented,” Lindsey says. And maybe she says it with the right amounts of force, because Emily finally shuts up. At last, she’s able to hold Lindsey’s gaze.

She smiles sheepishly and says, “Oh. Thanks.”

That night, when Lindsey goes home, she can’t stop thinking about Emily drawing, studying something closely and diligently copying it into a sketchbook, or doodling in the margins in class. It makes her feel almost giddy, knowing something secret about her.

By the eleventh meeting, though, Lindsey is reminded that there are still some things that she has yet to learn, things that Emily doesn’t want to share.

It happens when Lindsey sees Emily doodling something in the corner of her paper, arm shielding it from Lindsey’s view. When she leans forward, interested, and asks, “What are you drawing?”, Emily quickly flips over the paper and blushes.

“Nothing.”

Lindsey, sensing something off, leans back in her chair and asks tentatively, “Can I see?”

Emily chews her lip and quickly erases the drawing, “Not yet. Uh, maybe later.” She looks up at Lindsey once, apologetically maybe, and then quietly gets back to work.

Much like when she learned that Emily could draw, Lindsey can’t stop thinking at night about their eleventh session.

—

The week right before break is always stressful.

Lindsey’s running on about four hours of sleep, busy studying and working on projects and essays. The whole day felt like a fever dream, sailing to and from classes and tests that she’s not sure if she actually completed. She’s somehow made it to the end of the day, sat down in a chair in front of Emily in the library. She feels a little loopy, which maybe isn’t the best for the last review before their test. Emily doesn’t laugh at her jokes, instead eyebrows furrowing with a non-committal answer.

Lindsey’s asks, “You okay? You’re a little more quiet than usual.”

“No, yeah, I’m fine. I just need to focus.”

It’s so out of character for Emily. The blonde across from her looks absolutely dead on her feet, hood up and tightened around her face, bits of hair slipping out. There’s bags under her eyes, and a little more rasp than usual. She’s been jittering her leg, causing the table to vibrate, and it’s clear that she’s anxious. Lindsey’s only ever seen her cool nonchalance in the face of struggle, always joking. This is new.

“Hey,” Lindsey says, getting Emily’s attention by placing a hand on Emily’s hand, “You’re going to ace that test. Don’t worry.” She smiles in what she hopes looks encouraging. She’s not lying. Emily’s been doing well lately. Lindsey’s proud of her.

“Don’t worry,” Emily mimics in a voice that is uncharacteristically laced with menace, taking away her hand. Immediately after, though, she twists her face into an apologetic look, then slumps over the table, groaning.

Lindsey feels helpless, and she’s supposed to be the one helping her.

Until she gets an idea.

“Look, how ‘bout we ditch the studying. We’ve done enough, I’m a great teacher, you’ll kick ass. Let’s go somewhere! I’m sick of sitting around.”

“Very funny, Horan. You’d never do that,” Emily mumbles, muffled by her arms around her head.

“I would do that. We are doing that.”

Emily lifts up her head slightly, “Linds, really? Are you sure?” Her voice sounds so small and sweet, and Lindsey can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, I’m sure. Stop being a coward, Sonnett.” They hold eye contact for a moment, and for the first time, Emily’s furrowed brow relaxes.

“Okay. Where?”

“Let’s go to Starbucks. I want cold brew.”

Emily rolls her eyes, “Okay, basic bitch.”

“Whatever. Let’s get out of here,” Lindsey says, packing up her bag and putting on her coat quickly. Emily scrambles after her into the cold December air. It’s still sunny out, the sky completely clear of clouds. It feels refreshing, getting out into the open air, out of the stuffy classrooms filled with stress and spilled energy drinks. Lindsey’s always loved the winter. She loves the slight bite of the wind as it pushes through you, the rush of adrenaline while running in the cold.

Emily, on the other hand, looks like she does not enjoy the winter, almost completely hidden under dozens of layers. She’s pulling at the sleeves of her jacket to cover her hands, and Lindsey wants to laugh at her, trudging grumpily through the cold.

Lindsey can see Emily’s breath form clouds as she grumbles, “God, I can’t believe it. Ditching with Lindsey Horan, the super genius star athlete.”

It’s not the first time Emily’s called Lindsey that. It always makes her feel embarrassed, but for some reason, today it sticks out like a sore thumb. Usually, she’d ignore it, move on with the conversation.

It might be just because she’s tired, but she asks, “Where did that come from? The super genius thing?”

“Oh, you like it, huh? Self centered, much?” Emily jokes. Weirdly, Lindsey wants her to be serious now.

“No it’s just. Do people really talk about it that much? Talk about me?”

Emily blushes and says, “No.”

“Then how did you know? Like, you called me that the first day. Is that my reputation?”

Emily hesitates. Lindsey’s not looking at her, but she can imagine her chewing the inside of her cheek.

After a long pause, Emily speaks, “You know I’m friends with your friends, right? Kelley, Rose, Sam, Mal. Tobin, too. Weirdly, a lot of the soccer team.” It’s said so offhandedly, so casually, as if it’s not completely mind blowing information.

All Lindsey can stammer our is, “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Some of them are on basketball or softball with me. I know Tobin from art.”

Lindsey gapes at her, “You do sports?”

“Yeah? I mean, we can’t all be super geniuses but I’d like to consider myself an athlete as well.”

“I- What else are you hiding from me?”

“A lot, apparently! Dude! I’m hurt,” Emily says. Lindsey knows she’s faking, but it still stings a bit anyways.

They’ve been operating in the same circles and Lindsey hasn’t been paying attention. Lindsey probably has hung out with Emily before.

They could’ve been friends so much earlier.

“Okay, since I apparently know nothing about you even though you talk so much, tell me about yourself. Give me the rundown,” Lindsey says. As Emily opens her mouth to talk, Lindsey interrupts her, “Please spare the details, I don’t want to know you that much.”

“Uh, okay. I play basketball and softball. I actually used to play soccer but I quit. I have a twin sister, Emma, you might’ve met her but since you seem to never pay attention, maybe not. She’s shorter, don’t let her forget it. I keep begging my parents for a dog but they always say no. If I do get a dog, though, I’d name it Bagel Bongo.

“I love country and rap music, but you knew that because you follow my Spotify. Or a good pop remix. I also like to cook. I have plants, and I name them. I love Lizzie McGuire. I’ve never seen E.T. You probably know all of that stuff, actually. You know things about me, just not the big stuff, I guess.”

When Lindsey looks at Emily, she’s out of breath. Her cheeks and nose are red from the cold, but her eyes are a clear blue. Emily stares back, smiling softly.

Lindsey holds back a smile, instead opting for, “Are you done?”

Emily gasps, “You wanted the whole thing!”

“I didn’t want a whole autobiography.”

Emily grumbles, kicking the ground dramatically, “God, I’ll just shut up then.”

“Finally,” Lindsey says as she lightly bumps into Emily as they walk. Emily bumps into her back.

It’s cold, but Lindsey feels so warm.

“It’s too quiet, keep talking. I need to know everything,” she says.

Emily rolls her eyes, surprisingly avoiding the obvious joke by saying under her breath, “Okay, what else? I like to draw, but you knew that. I come from Georgia but we moved here in 2nd grade and I’ve never really gotten used to the snow. I went to that elementary school on Providence Street, before that I used to go to the one on Virginia but my parents moved me because I got bit by a kid-“

“Wait, you went to the one on Providence?”

“That’s what you noticed? Not the kid biting me?”

“No, me too!”

“The biting thing?” Emily snarks.

“No, you idiot, we must’ve been in the same grade!”

Emily is unusually quiet.

“Same class actually. In second grade. And fourth. And once in middle school I think,” she says nonchalantly.

It’s the second time where Lindsey is dumbfounded, “What?”

“No, yeah, we were friends then, remember? In second grade, I mean. Obviously not the rest of them. I was new, and you were friendly and liked sports too, and you showed me around everywhere.” Emily is pointedly not looking at her.

“This never happened. I do not remember this happening.”

“Are you kidding? We were tight then! We’d play tag together for recess! You, me, and that girl Katie were a squad! We’d always get in trouble for talking in that class.”

“You’re lying,” Lindsey laughs. This just seems too outlandish to her. There’s no way she messed up this much.

It has the opposite intended effect, though, as Emily says emphatically, “I’m not. I would remember.”

Then, after a beat, she chuckles, looking at her feet, “I mean, you were kinda my first friend here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Emily says, and Lindsey can tell that she’s doing that thing where she plays off things that bother her, like she does with all of her tests. Lindsey doesn’t want it to be that way.

Lindsey wants to know Emily. Really know her. They’ve only been friends for a month but Lindsey wants to be Emily’s best friend. She wants to figure out every part of her. She wants Emily to open up to her.

She’s never been so taken with someone before. It excites her, the prospect of making a new best friend, of studying Emily and solving her like she’s a calculus problem.

So Lindsey looks away and leans into Emily as they walk.

“Well, I guess this is fate then.”

When Lindsey looks back, Emily is beaming.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

After getting their iced coffees, freezing their hands off while walking home, the sun starts to set. It’s a pretty pink sky, and Lindsey pauses to take a picture of the sky behind Emily, huddled in her coat, complaining of the cold.

Later, Lindsey will throw her beanie at Emily’s face, telling her to take it so she stops complaining. Emily doesn’t stop complaining, but she takes the beanie anyways and has a cheeky smile on as she bemoans the cold. The beanie looks good on her, Lindsey thinks.

The eleventh session is definitely her favorite one so far.

—-

“Linds, your phone’s been buzzing like crazy,” Rose says, stealing one of Lindsey’s chips.

“Huh?”

Lindsey reaches for her phone, and turns it over. She puts down her sandwich and starts typing out a response immediately.

She and Emily have been texting a lot lately, especially after the time they got coffee. Before, it was just calculus help or texts to ask just how late Emily is going to be, but now it’s conversations. Real ones. Lindsey’s been barely holding back from asking Rose and Mal for help every time they text, because it takes Lindsey a while to think of a good response. They’d ask too many questions about it, though, so Lindsey doesn’t bother.

**dasani**  
Yo i think i killed that test  
Thank u, the wise Lindsey Horan

“What are you smiling at?” Rose demands, out of the corner of Lindsey’s eyes. Lindsey’s heart rate speeds up. Though she’s very small, Rose can be incredibly scary, especially when she stares directly at you.

“Nothing,” Lindsey says, turning around and away from Rose.

“Who are you texting?”

“Nobody. God, you’re so nosy.”

Rose manages to reach under Lindsey’s arms and snatch the phone away from her. She holds it away from Lindsey, who sighs and doesn’t even bother to try and get it back, and laughs.

“Sonnett? You’re texting Sonny?”

Mal leans in to look at Lindsey’s phone with Rose, saying, “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

“I mean-“ Lindsey starts, then pauses. She smiles a little, “Yeah, I guess so.” Rose snorts in response, gleefully scrolling through their texting history while giggling with Mal.

“Okay, you can stop scrolling now,” Lindsey says as she grabs her phone from Rose’s hands.

Rose smirks, “What are you hiding, Linds?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want you snooping in my business.”

“Okay,” Mal says in a sing-song voice. Lindsey rolls her eyes and goes back to responding.

**horanimal**  
i knew you’d do well  
i’m teaching you

Lindsey puts down her phone to see Mal and Rose watching her.

“So, you know her, right?” Lindsey asks, trying to nonchalantly eat her sandwich. It’s hard to talk with turkey in her mouth.

“Yeah. She’s like, friends with everybody.”

“Except for apparently me, right?”

“Yeah,” Rose says, like Lindsey is being stupid. Maybe she is. “What’s the point here?”

Lindsey puts down her sandwich. “Why? Why not me?”

There’s a pause. Rose looks like she doesn’t know what to say.

Mal interjects, “I don’t know, you tend to have tunnel vision. You only really care about soccer and school, and honestly not even all of school, just math.” Rose laughs at that.

“Hey!”

“No! It’s not that you’re not friendly. You’re just very passionate. You don’t tend to pay much attention to things you don’t care about. And that’s like, most kids here, unless they play soccer.”

Rose nods wisely, taking a handful of chips out of Lindsey’s bag, “You’re focused.”

“What Rose said.”

Lindsey nods.

“What’s with all this about Sonnett?”

“Nothing. Just curious.”

“Okay,” Rose says, in the same sing-songy voice that Mal used before. The one that Lindsey hates. Lindsey responds by taking a long sip out of Rose’s coffee, to her loud protests.

—-

After what seems like forever, the bell rings.

Lindsey usually likes having Ms. Sauerbrunn’s class last period. It’s relaxing. But not today. She may love math, but what she really loves more is going home and sleeping for the rest of the day, the long break ahead of her.

She tries to make it past Sauerbrunn and through the rush of kids who want to go home, until her teacher calls out, “Hey, Lindsey. I want to talk to you about something.”

Lindsey groans internally.

“Okay, is everything good?”

“It’s about Sonnett.”

Lindsey’s heart rate spikes.

She rambles, “Did she not do well? Do I need to help her more? I thought that she’s been doing great-“

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. It’s the opposite actually, she did really well on the last test.”

“Oh,” Lindsey says. She repeats it once more, smile growing on her face, “Oh.”

Ms. Sauerbrunn continues, “Since she’s been doing well, it’s not as pressing an issue that you tutor her. If you feel like she doesn’t need any more help from you, you can stop.”

And just like that Lindsey’s heart rate is back up again.

“It’s your choice.”

Lindsey doesn’t think. Her mind is completely blank.

She can hear herself say, “Uh, I’d like to keep tutoring her actually. You know, make sure she really has it before midterms.”

She would continue, but as if it were as simple as that, Ms. Sauerbrunn smiles and says, “Okay.”

Lindsey feels oddly giddy after she leaves. She chalks it up to the upcoming winter break.

—-

Break has been good to Lindsey. She needed the rest, she needed the time to sleep in to herself. Christmas was great, dinner with her extended family went off without a hitch, and she got some new bright red cleats as a gift.

But as the days wind down, Lindsey can’t help but feel a little restless.

She’s doing her homework for the break when she hears her phone vibrate next to her on her desk. She jumps at the excuse to stop, and flops in her bed with her phone, opened to a text from Emily.

It’s a picture of her crudely photoshopped with Messi. Lindsey chuckles to herself, leaning back and beginning to type a response.

**dasani**  
Thought u would like this

**horanimal**  
i do. thank you  
i appreciate the effort that must’ve taken

**dasani**  
Wow ur so nice today  
What happened to the real lindsey

**horanimal**  
i can be nice

**dasani**  
Idk abt that  
U were rly mean to me abt not liking eggnog yesterday

**horanimal**  
because you were just wrong. not liking eggnog is stupid

**dasani**  
Ok nvm real lindsey’s herer

**horanimal**  
herer

**dasani**  
Shut up  
Om tkaing out hot popcorn from the micriwave rn this is very dfficul t

Lindsey laughs, a little snort to herself. She can hear her some noises from her brother’s room next to hers. She ignores them.

**horanimal**  
popcorn? why

**dasani**  
Can a gril not have popcorn whn she wants

**horanimal**  
no

**dasani**  
Well, too bad bc i wanted it so im having some. And then watching an xmas movie on netflix.  
I have the house to myself today bc emmas w friends and my folks are working

**horanimal**  
lucky  
my parents and my aunt are all home and my brother invited his friends over :(  
theyre wearing shorts and plan on having a snowball fight when it snows later

**dasani**  
Lol can i join i have shorts on rn

**horanimal**  
no

**dasani**  
Ur brother seems like more fun than u

**horanimal**  
too bad hes not tutoring you then

**dasani**  
Nah, I doubt that hes smarter than u  
Literally no one is  
I’d rather have the super genius for myself

Lindsey blushes slightly, smiling to herself. She pauses, considers what to write, and avoids pushing it further.

**horanimal**  
good choice  
ugh now they’re blasting shitty music

Lindsey can hear yelling. Some of it is her brother’s and some of it is her mom’s. Emily hasn’t responded yet. She groans and moves back to her seat, starting back on her homework.

She gets through about one more page in the textbook when she’s distracted by another message from Emily.

**dasani**  
Bro wait i just had a genius idea. Lindsey horan level

**horanimal**  
oh no  
what is it

Lindsey can see Emily typing for a moment.

**dasani**  
Come over  
Get away from ur brother and his douche friends and ur fam

Lindsey almost drops her phone. She starts typing quickly, blood rushing through her.

**horanimal**  
no its okay, theyre not that bad

**dasani**  
Linds  
Do u rly want to just stay at home for all of break?

Her brother slams the door to his room, and Lindsey can hear it vibrate through the walls. She takes a deep breath, rubs her face, and then starts to answer.

**horanimal**  
no, it’s ok

She deletes it.

**horanimal**  
maybe

She groans and deletes that. She closes her eyes and types out two letters.

**horanimal**  
ok  
but are you sure?  
i dont want to intrude or whatever

**dasani**  
I DoNt wAnt To InTruDe  
Btw, i hate nice lindsey. Shes weird  
Just come over. I have popcorn. And xmas movies

Lindsey sighs.

She’s really doing this.

**horanimal**  
okay  
be there in 20

All Emily sends back is a thumbs up. Lindsey throws her phone onto her bed.

\---

Lindsey’s palms are sweating as she rings the doorbell.

It’s just going over to a friend’s house, she tells herself. A new friend, yes, a friend that Lindsey is mildly scared to be around, maybe, but a regular old friend nonetheless. Lindsey shouldn’t be worried.

She feels a little overdressed in her hoop earrings. She’s wearing sweatpants and Uggs, the opposite of overdressed, but she put the earrings on last minute as to not look too comfortable.

Because she’s not. She’s very uncomfortable.

And then Emily opens the door with a wide grin, in basketball shorts as her texts conveyed, slides, and the ugliest Christmas sweater Lindsey has ever seen. It has blinking lights and Rudolph with a pom pom red nose, and Lindsey snorts, then bursts out into laughter.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Emily says, as if nothing is wrong at all.

Through wheezing breaths, Lindsey asks, “Didn’t know there was a dress code for this.”

“Dress to impress, Linds, dress to impress!”

“You’re still wearing shorts, so I don’t know about that.”

Emily waves Lindsey away and holds the door open as Lindsey slides in.

As she takes off her bulky jacket and boots, Lindsey asks nonchalantly, “So you wanted to impress, huh?”

“Of course! I always do. Not my fault you don’t have my southern hospitality.” When Lindsey looks up, Emily is smirking and leaning on the wall. She rolls her eyes.

“Ah yes, my bad,” Lindsey says, holding out her hand and curtsying. “Ma’am, would you be so kind as to giving me a tour of your place of residence?”

Emily takes it, bowing as well, “Of course! Of course! Follow me.” She then pulls Lindsey through the hallway by her hand. Lindsey regrets holding it out, her palms are still sweaty, and getting sweatier by the second.

Emily clears her throat, gesturing with the hand that is not holding Lindsey’s, “So we see here, uh, is the area of which food is made, the uh, place where-“ She pauses and turns to Lindsey, exasperated, “Linds I cant keep this up. I’m not good at English either.”

“What, you can’t think of any big words? Do you need help forming sentences?”

“No,” Emily says, blushing. Lindsey notices that she looks smaller than usual. “I’m just going to give you a regular tour. Of my house.” She then drops Lindsey’s hand and immediately wipes her palm on her stupid sweater, and now it’s Lindsey’s turn to blush.

“Where’s your southern hospitality now? This isn’t a very good impression.”

“Shut up,” Emily says, back turned to Lindsey as she continues to walk through the house. Lindsey looks around. It’s homey, a Christmas tree up in the corner, and framed pictures adorning the walls. There’s popcorn on the sofa, along with a discarded blanket, and Netflix on the TV.

“Uh, there’s the kitchen, the living room.”

They walk up the stairs. Emily hasn’t looked at Lindsey once.

“That’s my sisters room. I’m not allowed in there because I broke her lamp by throwing around a ball.” Lindsey snorts.

Emily gestures to the closed door at the end of the hallway, “That’s my parents room. I don’t know what happens there.”

She then reaches to open the final unmentioned door.

“This is my room.”

Lindsey steps inside, turning around to look at everything.

It’s messy, clothes in a pile on the floor, but not enough to be gross; the clothes are regulated to the corner, at least, with a basketball on top of it like it’s a nest. There’s succulents and plants lining the windowsill, trophies and ribbons on a shelf on the wall, homework abandoned on the desk, with a string of pictures and lights above it. It’s somewhere in between completely expected and completely surprising for Emily, and Lindsey likes that for some reason.

She flops down in Emily’s desk chair, “So this is where the Dasani resides.”

“Yep,” Emily says bashfully, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“It’s very, uh, you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lindsey smiles at Emily’s slightly worried look, “Messy as hell.” Emily snorts softly.

It’s silent after that.

Lindsey pretends to busy herself by looking at Emily’s desk. She’s doing homework as well, wooden pencils strewn across the desk, because Emily hates breaking mechanical pencils, much to Lindsey’s exasperation when she needs to borrow one. There’s also a couple of loose drawing pencils, which makes Lindsey smile.

She clears her throat, “Are you sure I’m not intruding? Like-“

“Oh my god, Linds, I literally invited you into my home. That’s like, the opposite of intruding.”

“And your parents won’t mind?”

“They won’t come home from work for a while. Either way, they’d honestly be really happy. Hanging out with my tutor. They’d be proud of my sudden interest in my academics.”

Lindsey scooches closer on her chair, smirking, “Oh, so I’m just a tutor to you, huh?”

Emily blushes, “Yeah, that and nothing more.”

“Yeah,” Lindsey says, trailing off. Emily is silent again.

Desperate to keep up the conversation, Lindsey turns back to the desk and says, “Nice pictures.” There’s childhood photos of Emily and Emma hung up, a couple of Emily and her parents, some of Emily and friends. Lindsey can spot Kelley on one of them, even a picture of Emily with Rose and Mal and Sam.

Emily immediately brightens up and Lindsey smiles, “Oh! Yeah. Did you know that me and Emma used to wear the same things every day?”

“God, no wonder I didn’t know that we were apparently friends then. I probably thought I was talking to Emma.”

“Excuses, Horan, excuses,” Emily says as she stands up to look closer at the pictures over Lindsey’s shoulder. She has her hand on the back of the chair, and Lindsey can feel it.

“Oh, here’s one where you’re wearing different things,” she says. It’s a photo of Halloween, Emma dressed as a princess and Emily as a knight.

Emily chuckles, “Ha, yeah. The Halloween one. I think my parents knew I was gay before I did.”

Lindsey spins around in surprise, “You’re gay?”

“Yeah. Thought it was kinda obvious,” Emily says. Lindsey can tell that she’s trying to look unbothered. It’s funny how she can tell that.

“I mean- yeah. But me too!”

Emily jerks her head to face Lindsey, eyes slightly wider and smile on her face. But she jokes all the same, “You play soccer and wear an unhealthy amount of chains, Linds. I knew that.”

Lindsey blushes, “That’s- that’s fair.”

Clapping her hands, Emily says, “Okay, now that we got that over with, can we watch Christmas movies? Our popcorn is getting cold.”

“Our popcorn?”

“Oh sorry, my popcorn. You don’t get any of it.”

—

Lindsey groans and stretches out her legs on the couch, “That movie was horrible.”

“Linds! Where’s your Christmas spirit?” Emily gasps mock-offendedly.

“It’s not even Christmas anymore. We should be watching New Years movies,” Lindsey says as she plops her legs onto Emily’s lap, taking up all of the couch.

Emily shoves off her legs, “You just didn’t like the romance in it. It was a perfectly good movie.”

“It was so cheesy, and unrealistic! No one would do that. And didn’t they like, just meet?”

Through a mouthful of popcorn, Emily says sagely, “Well, I thought it was romantic.”

Lindsey sits up, grinning, “Never pegged you as a rom com lover.”

“Yeah, well, Emma made me watch so many of them that my brain was forced to enjoy them so I don’t die.”

Lindsey leans in closer, slapping Emily’s arm, “Aw, you sap. You love romance.” Emily doesn’t say anything in response, just shoves more popcorn into her mouth. Lindsey leans back, pulling their shared blanket over her legs. She feels warm. Content. She doesn’t want to move from her spot.

It’s been going surprisingly well, aside from that minor bout of awkwardness at the beginning. A bad (or in Emily’s opinion, a good) movie was just the thing to get them back to normal. They laughed and joked and pushed each other around, and it was nice to hang out without the pretense of tutoring. It was nice to hang out as friends.

She closes her eyes for a bit, smiling to herself.

Until Emily is tapping her shoulder excitedly, saying, “Hey look, it’s snowing!” Lindsey turns to the window, and she can see soft flakes floating down.

She smiles and walks up to the window, lightly touching her hand to it, “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Emily says from beside Lindsey. She has a soft smile on her face, her eyes glowing with childlike wonder. Her Christmas sweater is still flashing, and her bun is half falling out, strands of hair framing her face.

“I can see my brother and his stupid friends in this snow.” Emily doesn’t look away from the window, just laughs a little bit to herself.

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to try?” Lindsey asks playfully. When Emily gives her a quizzical look, Lindsey clarifies, “Going out into the snow with shorts?”

Emily sputters, “What? No, never. Don’t you dare-”

“You’re chickening out on me! Let’s go!” Lindsey pulls a fighting Emily to the door, and slams it open.

Emily shivers, “Lindsey, it’s freezing!”

After Lindsey tugs on her boots, she steps outside into the cold. It is freezing, but she’s not going to let Emily see that.

She picks up some snow, “C’mon Georgia girl! Show me what you got.”

“I-“ Emily starts, but then is met with a face full of snow. She sputters at first, spitting out snow dramatically, wiping her face growing flushed by the cold.

But then she grins.

“Oh, you’re on.”

She tugs on a pair of boots by the door and jumps into the snow with Lindsey.

It’s all a blur of white from there. They go back and forth, pelting each other with snowballs. Lindsey doesn’t think she’s laughed this hard ever, spitting out snow from her mouth and wiping water off of her face. Her hands are freezing to death, make that her whole body, actually, but she doesn’t care.

She’s packing a snowball when Emily sneaks up from behind and shoves fistfuls of snow into Lindsey’s hood and into her sweatshirt. Lindsey shrieks in surprise, feeling the cold hit her bare neck. Emily laughs, starting to run away.

But then Lindsey pulls her down, screaming, “Don’t you dare!”

Lindsey sits on top of a kicking and squirming Emily, piling snow onto her face.

Emily sputters and laughs, “Truce! Truce! My legs are getting frostbite!” Lindsey doesn’t stop.

“No truce! This is to the death!”

“Please! I surrender!” Lindsey throws one more snowball for good measure, then pauses, smiling.

Once Emily wipes away all of the snow with her Christmas sweater, Lindsey can see her face. There’s freckles dusting her forehead and nose, sprinkled over a light blush. Her eyes are wide and clear.

They’re both panting. Lindsey feels her cheeks ache. Snow is falling around them, and it makes it feel like they’re the only ones in the world. Lindsey feels her heart rate pick up more than it already has, staring into Emily’s eyes in silence.

It’s different. She can see Emily’s smile dim.

Maybe that’s what makes Lindsey realize how cold she is, because she gets up, offering Emily a frozen hand from where she’s leaning back, breathless in the snow. Emily takes it wordlessly.

“I win,” Lindsey says, grinning softly. She says it quietly, though, carefully. She doesn’t want to break this silence, and it seems that Emily doesn’t want to either.

Emily rolls her eyes, suppressing a smile, “Fine. You win.”

Once they get back inside to the comfortable warmth of heating, Lindsey picks up her phone from where it was abandoned on the couch to find five missed calls from her mom. She listens to the voicemail as Emily takes off her soaking sweater. Lindsey, for some reason, watches intently. There’s a slight hint of skin and Lindsey doesn’t know why she notices it. Then Emily looks to Lindsey curiously, staring at her with a wry smile.

Lindsey has to clear her throat before she says, “My mom wants me home. We’re going out for dinner with family.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Lindsey stands up and looks down at her sweatpants, which are clinging to her legs, “Ugh, my pants are all wet.”

When Emily opens her mouth, smiling, Lindsey groans, “Please don’t make a joke.”

“Wasn’t going to!”

Emily bashfully plays with the hem of her shirt. Lindsey finds it cute.

“I was going to say that you can borrow one of mine if you want.”

“It’s okay, I can just go home and change-“ Lindsey starts, but before she finishes Emily has a finger out to shush her and bounds up the stairs. Lindsey follows her hesitantly.

When she enters Emily’s room, Emily has a pair of folded gray sweatpants in her hands.

She says apologetically, eyebrows furrowed, “This was all I could find, I’m so sorry. Laundry day is tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” Lindsey says, a bit confused, taking the pants and going to the bathroom to change. When she unfolds them, however, she finds the reason why Emily said sorry.

There, on the upper right leg, are the words ‘Sonnett’ in red capital letters, and under it the number 16 and ‘Girls Varsity Basketball’. It makes Lindsey feel some sort of way when she looks at it on her thigh, in Emily’s bathroom.

It makes her feel some sort of way when she looks at it in her own bathroom at night before getting ready for bed. She didn’t bother to take them off before dinner, too much of a hassle. She poses in the mirror. They look surprisingly good on her. Lindsey wonders how they look on Emily. Lindsey can’t stop wondering about Emily.

Laying awake in her bed later at night, Lindsey still can’t stop thinking about Emily Sonnett and her stupid sweater and romantic Christmas movies and popcorn, Emily and her jokes and her boyish smile and her blush when Lindsey teases her back, Emily and her basketball sweats that are neatly folded on Lindsey’s chair. She can’t stop thinking about how today felt different, how it felt calmer, more personal somehow. She can’t stop thinking about Emily in the snow, grinning and as red as a tomato.

She turns over once more, opening her eyes to stop imagining what it looked like. She’s faced with the darkness of her room.

Lindsey hears her phone buzz from where it’s charging on her bedside table. She reaches for it instinctively, and when she sees that it’s Emily, her heart races and she sits up in her bed.

It’s a mirror selfie of Emily in that same bathroom Lindsey changed in. She’s doing her classic pose, the peace sign and the duck face. She’s wearing a Waffle House t-shirt, her pride and joy. Her hair is down, resting on her shoulders lightly, and Lindsey thinks about how she wishes that she did that more because it looks so soft.

She’s also wearing gray sweatpants, sweatpants with ‘Sonnett’ and ‘16’ and ‘Girls Varsity Basketball’ on them.

**dasani**  
we’re matching  
gn :)

When Lindsey types out good night with a giddy smile on her face, she’s hit with a realization. When she hits send, she feels her heart thump in her chest. When she closes her eyes, there’s only one thing she can think about.

Everything makes sense. Lindsey solved the puzzle. It thrills her, as usual, but there’s also a hint of unease. She can’t seem to drift off and fall asleep.

She may have a small crush on Emily.

—-

“Why am I here? I don’t even like basketball,” Lindsey groans from the top of the bleachers of their school’s gym.

Rose rolls her eyes next to her, typing away at her phone, “Because you’re whipped.”

“Shut up. She came by surprise to one of my club soccer games because she was in the area, I want to repay the favor.”

Rose finally puts down her phone, amused look on her face, “‘In the area’? Bullshit. It’s because she’s whipped too.”

“She’s not. And she was in the area. She was with her sister.”

“She probably dragged her along to your game. Just like you dragged me,” Rose says dramatically, leaning her head back on the wall with a loud thunk.

“You wanted to come! Look at the hot basketball players!”

“I’m not into jocks, Lindsey. Unlike you.” Rose has her eyes closed now, pretending to sleep.

Lindsey sighs, “Whatever.” Then she pokes Rose in the arm, “Hey! They’re finally coming out to warm up!”

“Finally. It’s been years,” Rose groans, sitting up.

Lindsey can see Emily come out of the locker room, joking as always with someone else, a girl with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Emily has her own in a high and uncharacteristically neat bun.

Rose yells, cupping her mouth, “Yo, Sonnett! Why are you the shortest one here-“

“Shut up! You’re so annoying!” Lindsey says, ready to slap Rose, but then Emily is looking up at them with a goofy smile and a surprised look, and Lindsey pulls her hand back to wave.

“Whipped,” Rose whispers.

Lindsey doesn’t bother to respond.

All throughout the warm up, Lindsey tracks number 16 like a hawk. She’s everywhere, making her teammates laugh, pestering her coach, at times serious and redoing her bun. Sometimes, she’ll look up at Lindsey and do a little wave, and Lindsey laughs. Usually after those, Emily will do something stupid, like try an overly complicated trick shot (which backfires and almost hits someone in the head) or coordinate a dance that incorporates dribbling and many, maybe too many, fake out shots.

And then, Emily’s coach will give her a look, or a talking to, and even though Lindsey can’t see, she knows Emily has that same playful look on. Then Emily will turn to Lindsey and shrug, smiling all the same.

And Lindsey will always blush. Always.

The game is a blur. Lindsey knows vaguely enough about basketball to get by, but she doesn’t really care about the game, just number 16. She holds her breath whenever Emily gets rough with a player, bodying them like an aggressive small dog. She laughs when Emily trips on her feet running back, then gives a thumbs up to her tired coach. She cheers every time Emily scores, which is a lot despite how small she looks on the court, pulling a disgruntled Rose up with her. Emily, who always looked so focused, so competitive, would only look to her then with an embarrassed smile.

Lindsey feels swept up in the excitement, the energy around her. She feels on top of the world. She feels close to Emily, even though she’s all the way up in the bleachers and Emily is down on the court, head in the game.

After, high on their win, Lindsey rushes to find Emily, congratulate her, formulating a joke to make about her graceful stumble in the middle of the game. She turns a corner in the hallway, hoping to catch Emily exiting from the locker room.

In the distance, she sees two vague figures walking. One is someone she doesn’t know. The other looks a lot like Emily, pulling her hair out of its bun. She can hear voices talking, and starts to walk towards them.

“Hey, Son. Can we talk for a second?” the unnamed girl says. Lindsey recognizes her vaguely, she sort of looks like that girl Emily was talking to a lot on the team.

“Yeah, what’s up?” That’s Emily. Lindsey walks faster.

“We’re friends, right?”

“Bailey! C’mon, of course! There’s no one else I’d rather trust Isabella with.” Lindsey can see Emily throw an arm around the other girl, who pushes it off gently.

The other girl’s voice is serious, starkly contrasting with Emily’s joking demeanor. “Right. But what if I want more?”

Lindsey stops in her tracks.

“Another plant, you mean? I mean, Isabella is the only one that really needs looking after, but-“

“No, not like that. I like you. And I was wondering, uh. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Lindsey’s just about to rush out, heart racing, when Emily looks up. Because she just has to. She looks small, almost, hair wet and pushed back, in too big sweatpants, like the ones she gave Lindsey. Maybe they are the ones she gave Lindsey.

“Lindsey?” she asks. Lindsey can’t answer, voice stuck in her throat.

She rushes away quickly without a word.

She was so stupid, so naive to ever think that Emily could like her back.

She turns many corners, hoping to find the exit, when she rams into someone. She’s just about to apologize when she sees his face. His ugly, smirking face, with a patchy beard he thinks looks good on him but really just looks like smudges of dirt.

“Lindsey!” Russell says, grinning like a shark, arms open for a hug. “Isn’t like you to come to these things!”

Lindsey pushes past him, “Shut the fuck up, Russell, now isn’t the time. Actually, it’s never the time.”

Russell runs after her, hands up in offense, “Jeez, chill out. You always get so bitchy with these things-“

And then Lindsey runs into someone for the third time tonight, almost walking right into them. She stops, though, frozen.

It’s Emily, with her stupid wet hair and dumb blue eyes and hand that’s on Lindsey’s arm gently that makes her heart flutter, “Lindsey, hey, I’m sorry, I was just talking with-“

“Who is this?” Russell demands, eyes flicking to the hand on Lindsey’s arm. Lindsey unfreezes herself and pushes Emily’s hand away, stepping back from how close they were.

“My friend.”

Emily opens her mouth to talk, eyes locking with Lindsey’s, but then Russell’s snivelling voice interrupts, “Sorry, me and Linds were having a discussion.” It makes Lindsey want to throw up.

“I-“ Emily starts. She looks uncharacteristically scared, eyes darting back and forth between Russell and Lindsey, and fingers clenching and unclenching at her side. Russell glares at her.

Emily says hesitantly, voice hoarse, “Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later, Linds.” She starts to walk away. Lindsey wants nothing more than to run to her.

“Is she on the basketball team?” Russell asks beside her. “She really looks like it, if you know what I mean. Can I say that word? I think you’d kill me.” Lindsey can see Emily stop walking from the corner of her eye.

Russell continues, noticing Lindsey’s face, “Oh, sorry, I forgot you were one of them. Is that why you’re friends with her?”

Then he smiles, “Wait, did you ditch me for _her_? Really, Linds? I thought you were smarter than that.”

That’s all it takes for Lindsey to tear her eyes away from Emily and face him.

Lindsey shoves Russell into the wall roughly. He slams against it like a rag doll.

“You know what? You’re a fucking asshole. I should’ve dumped you long before you cheated on me. I should’ve never even dated you. I should’ve never even so much as looked at you.”

Lindsey storms off, leaving him against the wall. She walks quickly, which grows into a jog, which grows into a full speed run through the hallways, searching for any sign of Emily. The hallways are filled with people milling about from the game. She even sees Bailey, whoever she is, talking with some girls on the basketball team. No Emily, though.

When she reaches the exit, and flings open the door to the darkness outside, the cold January wind hits her like a train. She can’t find anyone at all.

—-

The worst part is, Bailey is cute.

She’s understandably someone Emily would like, she’s pretty and smart and plays basketball and apparently loves plants as well. She likes hipster coffees and has a pitbull. She’s perfect for Emily, at least from what Lindsey has seen from the Instagram posts Rose has shown her.

And Emily did look happy with her.

“Linds, you have to stop worrying. You don’t even know if she said yes,” Rose says from beside her.

“I’m not worrying,” Lindsey says. She takes a sip of her treat to herself, a Starbucks cold brew. “And she probably did say yes. Why wouldn’t she? She’s single and a cute girl asked her out.”

“Okay, she might’ve, that’s true. But there’s a big chance that she didn’t.”

“Really big,” Mal says, sipping her own coffee, like she knows something Lindsey doesn’t. The both of them have been acting like there’s something else.

“How do you guys know that?”

“I just know,” Rose says wisely.

“Okay. Then how can I know that?”

“You ask her. You actually talk to her.”

Lindsey groans, angrily drinking the rest of her coffee until there’s just ice. She doesn’t want to think about it.

She spends all of calculus dreading their tutoring session in the library later that day, uncharacteristically distracted. Even Ms. Sauerbrunn notices, shooting her a concerned look.

Lindsey waits for Emily in the library. She’s late. She hasn’t been this late since their first meeting, and it worries Lindsey. She said she wasn’t worrying, but she is. She’s freaking out, and Emily being late gives her enough time to freak out some more.

Emily probably doesn’t like her back, she tells herself. But there’s that stupid, stubborn part of her that hopes. Lindsey knows that the odds aren’t good for her, but she can’t help it.

Maybe Emily likes her back. Maybe Emily said no. Maybe Lindsey can see her today and somehow work this out.

“Hey, uh, are you Lindsey?” a voice rings through Lindsey’s thoughts. Lindsey startles and looks up to see a blonde girl, who looks just a little familiar.

“Yeah,” Lindsey says, scrambling to look more attentive.

The girl smiles, “I’m Emma, Emily’s sister. She wanted me to let you know that she went home sick today.”

Lindsey doesn’t have the time to think about what it means for her and her odds. She feels a sinking feeling, and leaves it at that.

“I-“ Lindsey starts, then sighs. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” She starts to pack up her stuff.

“Hey, Lindsey?”

Lindsey looks up, “Yeah?”

Emma is smiling, and strangely it reminds Lindsey of Emily’s.

“My sister is an idiot. And she really likes you. And you seem much smarter than she is, so. Don’t be stupid, is all I’m saying.”

“What?” Lindsey says, dumbfounded.

Emma sighs, “Do I really have to spell it out for you? Has she been lying to me all this time about how smart you are?”

Lindsey’s heart starts to race at the thought of Emily telling her sister about her.

It’s probably just because you tutor her, she tells herself. There’s nothing there. But somehow, she feels her lips tug into a smile.

“No, I mean, maybe but,” Lindsey takes a deep breath, “I get it. Thank you.”

Emma nods, “You’re welcome.” She starts to walk away, then turns back, “Don’t tell her I did this, she’d kill me.”

“You could probably take her. She’s puny,” Lindsey jokes. Emma laughs.

“I like you. You’d be good for her. Don’t mess up!” she calls back as she walks to the entrance of the library, leaving Lindsey speechless and feeling lighter than she did before.

—-

Later that day, Lindsey has a club team game. She’s been playing fine, not good, just fine. She can’t stop feeling a sense of worry, mixed with a sense of hope, and they’re clashing in her mind every time she touches the ball.

She’s taken what feels like millions of shots so far. None of them have went in. The game is tied 0-0.

She leaves the pitch at half frustrated, chugging down water alone, away from her laughing teammates. She’s just about to swallow a particularly large gulp of water when she sees a familiar hooded figure in way too many layers walking alongside the field, carrying white grocery bags.

Lindsey almost chokes. Then she rushes to the chain linked fence. She probably looks like a madwoman to all of the staring soccer moms. She doesn’t care.

“Hey!” she calls out.

Emily turns around, surprised look on her face, eyebrows raised. She looks tired, the bags under her eyes larger than usual. She doesn’t say anything, just turns.

“Hey,” Lindsey says through the fence, softer and breathless.

“Hey,” Emily says, smile ghosting her lips. Her voice sounds hoarse. Lindsey missed the sound of it.

“Didn’t see you at tutoring today,” she says, playing with the hem of her soccer shorts. She wipes her forehead, hoping that there’s no sweat there.

“Yeah, sorry,” Emily apologizes. She pauses then adds, “I really am sick, though. Mom sent me to get Nyquil.” She holds up her grocery bags and gestures to the convenience store across the street.

There’s a pause. Emily looks away from Lindsey, biting her lip, strands of hair sticking out of her hood. Lindsey wants to push them back in, but there’s a fence and what feels like miles apart in between them. Lindsey can’t do anything.

Well, she can do one thing. One small baby step.

She thinks about Rose, and Mal, and Emma. She thinks about Russell, who she let do everything, who would be so mad at the thought of her having control, doing something, anything, with this cute girl who is better than him in every way. Even maybe in calculus.

“When do you have to go back?” Lindsey says, feeling a sudden burst of confidence.

“Why?” Emily asks, voice small.

Lindsey hears herself say, “Stay. For the next half. I want you to stay.”

“Lindsey-“ Emily starts, and Lindsey is just about to start rambling about joking around and apologizing, but then Emily smiles slightly, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Lindsey says, matching her smile.

When Lindsey scores, through the throng of her teammates, she looks over to see Emily cheering loudly for her, soccer moms staring at her. Lindsey can hear her yell, “That’s my tutor!”, despite how hoarse her voice is. Lindsey doesn’t mind. She likes the raspiness.

She’ll smile brightly at Emily, who gives her a big cheesy grin of her own.

Lindsey gets lost in the rest of the game. She’s on fire, scoring once more and nabbing one assist. Each time she looks at Emily, and Emily is right there.

Until the game is over, post-victory euphoria quieted, the sun already set and the field only lit by floodlights. Then Lindsey can’t find Emily waiting for her at all. She feels something low in her stomach.

She pulls out her phone.

**dasani**  
Sorry i gtg, mom called me demanding where i was, worried i got kidnapped  
U were insane!!! Truly a horanimal

Then there’s a blurry photo of Lindsey, intense look on her face and tongue sticking out as she’s sprinting towards the ball.

**dasani**  
Whatta baller

Lindsey leaves the field feeling better than scoring two goals.

—-

“Dude. That was like. So romantic” Mal gapes, salad half falling out of her fork.

Rose nods, “Straight out of a movie.”

Mal sighs, picking at the croutons, “When will Dansby do that for me?”

“When you go to his baseball games,” Rose jokes, which earns a glare from Mal. Rose grins cheekily.

Then she turns to Lindsey, suddenly all business, “Anyways.”

“Anyways,” Mal echoes. Lindsey regrets telling them anything.

“She watched your game, and you didn’t do anything?” Rose exclaims.

Mal asks, counting on her fingers, “You didn’t kiss her? Or even ask her out? Or even talk to her?” She’s loud, and Lindsey looks around desperately to check if people are listening.

“She had to leave after! I couldn’t,” she insists, more quietly, blushing. She doesn’t say that she probably would’ve, if not for that. She thinks it goes unsaid. Rose and Mal look at her with pursed lips and raised brows. Lindsey groans and rubs her temples.

“Look. I have tutoring with her today, I’ll do something.”

Rose’s eyebrows raise just a little higher.

“I’ll talk to her,” Lindsey says exasperatedly. When Rose and Mal break out into a smile, Lindsey warns, “And that’s it. Midterms are next week, we have to focus. I can’t distract her with my stupid crush.”

“Okay, nerd.”

Lindsey gasps, “I’m not a nerd! I just want her to do well! She’s been doing great and I want this to show for her hard work.”

Rose and Mal gag, groaning loudly and falling over the table. Lindsey rolls her eyes.

“That’s worse than being a nerd. That’s disgusting.”

“You don’t have to talk to her, I think I’m good,” Rose says, scrunching up her face. Lindsey tries to hide her laugh as she slaps her arm.

—-

Maybe she should follow Rose’s advice, Lindsey thinks. The second one. The not-talking one. The less scary one.

Walking to the library, her stomach is doing somersaults inside of her. She’s early, maybe by ten or so minutes. She rushed down from her locker and from Rose and Mal’s teases too fast, and now she can’t avoid the looming doors of the library despite how slowly she tries to walk.

She’s early. There’s nothing scary there behind the doors. Emily will be late, as usual. Lindsey has time to decide.

But maybe a little of Rose and Mal’s intervention got into her head. Because Lindsey has that stubborn feeling in her heart that she gets when at the goal with the ball at her feet. That determination to shoot.

And score.

Until she opens the doors and screeches in the most quiet voice she can muster, “Sonny? Bailey?”

And there’s Emily and Bailey, deep in conversation. Or rather, Emily and Bailey with their heads turned to Lindsey in surprise, blush on Emily’s face and a little bit tinged on her ears. Bailey sheepishly scrambles up, gathering her things, and whispers a quick goodbye to Emily, who gives a small wave in response.

And Lindsey’s just standing there. Frozen.

“You’re early,” she manages to choke out once Bailey has left.

Emily is shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Yeah, well, so are you.”

She is early. Emily is early.

As Lindsey puts down her things robotically, going through the motions, Emily jokes, “No wonder why you always think I’m late. You’re just a monster who comes like ten minutes early.” She’s clearly kidding, but her voice sounds different, like she’s just going through the motions as well.

“So, uh, you know Bailey? You said her name earlier.” Lindsey looks up at that, at a loss for words.

“Well, uh,” she starts, pausing. She swallows thickly and then lies, “No. Just know her name from seeing her around.”

“Huh. Didn’t know that.”

“_You_ know Bailey?”

“Yes, duh,” Emily says, looking at Lindsey weirdly.

Lindsey blushes, “Okay, sorry. That was a stupid question.”

“Super genius Horan, asking a stupid question. Never thought I’d see the day,” Emily chuckles half-heartedly. Lindsey does the same.

They settle into their regular routine, going over the problems on the review packet Ms. Sauerbrunn gave them. Lindsey tries to think only about math as much as possible, ignoring Emily's jokes and opportunities for her own. Once Emily starts to work on her own, Lindsey sneaks her phone under the table to text Rose and Mal that all bets are off. And maybe for some advice, though that would come unprompted.

Even though she didn’t really want to do it, she can’t help but feel a little disappointed, heart clenched and foot tapping. She chews the inside of her cheek.

When she looks up, she sees Emily staring at her with a curious look.

“You okay, Linds?” she asks, voice small and soft. Lindsey feels her heart swoop. Emily then breaks into a small grin, “Hey, you know you’re gonna ace this test, right? No need to worry.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. Just a little tired.”

Emily nods wisely, “Balling hard like you did yesterday can exhaust you. I understand.”

Lindsey lets herself smile a little. “Oh. Yeah.”

There’s a pause, and before Lindsey can let it slip by her she says sheepishly, “About that. Thanks for staying to watch.”

Emily smiles softly, playing with the hair tie on her wrist, “No problem. And sorry for not staying. At the end.” Lindsey nods. Then Emily looks up, and she feels frozen for the second time that day.

“I wanted to, though. You were great. You were so good.”

Emily says it so insistently, so sincerely, that Lindsey forgets everything that happened before. She’s staring at Lindsey intensely, almost intimidatingly. Lindsey gapes, not knowing what to say, and Emily nods once, as if satisfied. She goes back to work, head resting in her hand, her cheeks squished up. Her hair is down today, resting softly on her shoulders.

The statement is so simple. It still makes Lindsey feel butterflies.

She realizes that she’s staring when Emily glances up for a moment. Lindsey’s mouth opens, then closes. She can tell that Emily is just about to look back down.

She doesn’t want the moment to escape her.

She blurts out, “Hey, I have something to tell you,” just as Emily does too. They pause, unsure of what to do. Lindsey is sure that her heart has stopped.

“You go first,” she says, waving Emily ahead.

Emily coughs slightly, “You sure?”

“No. Yeah.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s a yes,” Lindsey says, blushing hotly. “Just say it, Dasani.”

“I-” Emily starts. Lindsey is staring at her now, waiting on the edge of her seat. She catches Emily’s eyes. They look a little scared. Emily takes a deep breath.

“I’m not dating Bailey,” she breathes out. “You don’t have to look at me like that, I know you were thinking it. She, uh, she did ask me out, though. And I said no. I think you heard it after that game and I was going to tell you but then your ex was there and uh. Yeah. I said no. Which was kinda stupid, but I said no because I like you.

She takes another breath, and continues without waiting for Lindsey, “And we’re good now, we were just talking about it and she was supposed to leave before you got there, and I was supposed to surprise you by being earlier than you. But then you showed up so- ”

And then it hits Lindsey.

“What did you say?” she asks, mouth dry. She has to make sure before she does something stupid.

“To her? Or before? Because it was that she was supposed to leave before you-”

“No, before that.”

“Oh. That I, uh, I like you.”

Oh, Lindsey thinks. She did hear it correctly.

She breaks out into a smile.

It feels exhilarating. How shy Emily is, how bashful. Like when she’s hiding her drawings from Lindsey. Or when she does well on a test. Lindsey has never had that happen. Her happiness takes over her gently, her legs stop tapping and her brow unfurrows.

But Emily is still rambling, unaware of Lindsey, “It’s okay if you curve me, honestly. I probably deserve it, as some sort of karma thing for Bailey. And like, it would be unethical, you’re my tutor and all, and that’s kind of like a teacher. And I have liked you for a while, which I guess- you know what never mind, actually, and-”

“God, do you ever shut up?” Lindsey asks. Emily stops talking. She’s breathless and her cheeks are red and she licks her lips, just once, and then Lindsey can’t stop herself from leaning across the table to kiss them, brushing aside the packets and pencils on the desk. The chair makes a noise behind her, but she doesn’t care.

Emily leans into it too, and that’s all that matters.

When they pull back, still inches apart, Emily mumbles, smiling softly, “Huh. Maybe I should talk a lot more often if that happens.” Lindsey groans and pushes her away, smiling.

Emily is smiling too, “Or that’s fine too, I guess.”

Lindsey leans back, clearing her throat, “So, that was the thing I was going to tell you.”

“Ah. Good to know. Uh. What was it?”

And Lindsey is just about to make a joke when she feels a shadow come over them. She looks up to see the librarian, standing at their table with her arms crossed and a stern expression on her face. Lindsey gulps. She can see Emily start to gather her things from the corner of her eye.

“Excuse me?” the librarian asks.

“Yes?” Lindsey chokes out.

“It’s always you two, huh? This was your last warning, I've given you so many chances. Please leave the library.”

She doesn’t have to tell them twice.

Once the doors to the library are completely shut, and Lindsey and Emily are breathless and panting outside of them from scrambling out, Lindsey turns to Emily and says quietly, “I like you. Go out with me.”

“What?” Emily asks, looking at Lindsey weirdly.

“That was the thing I wanted to tell you. To go out with me,” she says. Emily nods, smile growing.

Then Lindsey adds, “To Starbucks. I want a cold brew.”

Emily groans, shoving her away, “You’re so mean.” She starts walking towards the exit.

Lindsey runs to catch up to her. “You love it.”

Once they’re outside, Lindsey bursts out in laughter. Emily stares at her, concerned.

“We got kicked out of the library. I got kicked out of the library for kissing you.”

“What, you’ve never gotten kicked out before?”

Lindsey shakes her head through her giggles. She doesn’t know why she thinks its so funny. She feels on top of the world.

“I can't believe we finally got kicked out! I had always waited for it, but I never thought it’d be like that!”

“Welcome to the delinquent life, super genius Lindsey Horan,” Emily chuckles as she bumps into her as they walk the familiar path to the nearest Starbucks.

And over iced coffee, and Lindsey paying for Emily's drink, Lindsey asks slyly, “So, you liked me for a while, huh? You said that before, when you couldn’t shut up.”

Emily almost chokes on her drink, spilling some and having to wipe it off of her face. After a hearty cough, she says, “Oh god. Forget I said that. Mal and Rose have already given me so much shit for it, I don’t need you too.” Lindsey laughs, then pauses.

“Wait, Rose and Mal knew?”

\---

Lindsey’s midterm goes off without a hitch.

She flies through it, enough time to check her work twice, then thrice, then for the fourth time.

The timer sounds, and after she hands in her test and avoids the milling students asking about answers, she bounds through the door. She’s greeted by Emily waiting for her, leaning on the wall in the hallway, scrolling on her phone. When she looks up to see Lindsey, she smiles.

Lindsey doesn’t hesitate before she kisses her soundly.

When she pulls back, Emily asks, blushing slightly, “How’d it go?”

“Aced it.”

Emily punches her on the shoulder lightly, “Knew you would.”

“Miss Horan, can I see you please?” Ms. Sauerbrunn asks from the classroom, to the sounds of laughter and ‘ooh’s from Lindsey’s exiting classmates. Emily laughs too, pushing Lindsey into the class, giving Ms. Sauerbrunn a wink and a smile. Lindsey is blushing hotly, looking back to the doorway where Emily is making faces, pushing up her nose, wiggling her eyebrows.

She rolls her eyes and turns back to Ms. Sauerbrunn, who is smiling at her.

“So, now that midterms are over, I believe I can set you free from the burden of tutoring,” she says.

“But-“

“No buts, Lindsey. You have been unshackled,” Ms. Sauerbrunn says factually, already started on grading tests. Lindsey would feel ashamed, if not for the small smile her teacher has.

Lindsey nods, and starts to exit, everyone already gone.

She pauses and turns back.

“Ms. Sauerbrunn?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

She smiles warmly, “You’re welcome, Lindsey.”

Lindsey closes the door behind her and takes Emily’s hand.

“I’m breaking up with you,” she whispers. Emily looks at her, concerned.

“You’re no longer my tutee. I only date people I tutor. I have to move on.”

Emily heaves a dramatic sigh and laughs, placing her hand on her heart.

“Was I at least the best student you’ve ever had?”

“You weren’t the worst,” Lindsey says, trying to sound sarcastic, but she thinks that her smile ruins it.

“Guess now is a good time to tell you that I only ever dated you for the calc grade,” Emily snarks. “Now that I can no longer get help from you? _I’m_ breaking up with _you_.“

“Do you ever shut up?” Lindsey rolls her eyes, giving Emily a chaste kiss while cupping her face.

“You know that only works once, right?” Emily says with a stupid grin.

Lindsey pushes her face away and groans, “Shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> request me @ broilbaby on twitter :-)


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